


lucky strike

by twoheadlights (fizzfic)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Basically, Boys In Love, Dan Howell is Whipped, Date Night, Established Relationship, M/M, Romance, make it an official tag plz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-04 19:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16352795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzfic/pseuds/twoheadlights
Summary: “my boy like a queen, unlike one you’ve ever seen,he knows how to love me bettera hit of dopamine, higher than i’ve ever been,he knows how to love me better.”-





	lucky strike

**Author's Note:**

> AND WE'RE DOOOOOOONE (read charlotte's fic too! she did animal!) this was so so much fun and helped get back into the swing of things.now it's back to our regularly scheduled fics until the next #fizzlotte project heh
> 
> thank u so so much for the nice comments and messages and i hope u like this one as well! x

**london** **  
** **november, 2014**

 

Dan’s in a good mood. He’s humming a jolly tune, there’s a skip to his step and he’s making Phil’s coffee _for_ him.

“Why’re you even awake before me?” Phil asks, eyes narrowed. He knows he looks ridiculous – he needs a haircut (even though he had one two weeks before – he’s starting to think his hairdresser’s putting fast-hair growing substances in the comb that he uses), his glasses are wonky because he broke them slightly and his old t-shirt that he wore to bed is too big on him, exposing his collarbones.

“I've been waking up before you for a while now,” Dan replies, walking to him outside the kitchen and handing him a steaming white mug that says DAN HOWELL AND PHIL LESTER BEST BUDS on it. That's also true. Phil gets like this sometimes when things are stressful – like when they're planning a _book_ and a _tour._  He gets nocturnal, stays up past the time even Dan does and sleeps through the morning. Today, thankfully they have no meetings and can just _be._

-

“No seriously, what's happening?”

The air around Dan is different. Phil feels like he's a Sim and his _Flirty_ moodlet is at its highest. He has hearts shooting out of him, and a playful smile plastered on his face.

“What do you mean, o love of mine?” Dan asks, placing a shirt on Phil, as if to check how it would look. It's black and has white spots on it and it's new and clearly for special occasions. “Wear this.”

“Are we going somewhere?” Phil asks, already stripping off the t-shirt he’d been wearing all day and putting on the shirt. “Are you taking me out on a _date_?”

Dan doesn’t answer, just smiles satisfyingly at Phil, like he’d done a good job planning his Sim’s outfit and leaves Phil’s room, presumably to also change. Phil goes back to his wardrobe, finds black jeans to go with his shirt, and considers maybe doing something different with his hair. Dan likes it pushed up, but Phil doesn’t have the confidence to do it. So he leaves it as it is, maybe running his hands through it to muss it up at the back. He’s still wearing his glasses, which he always does at home so he keeps them on. It makes him look older, more his age anyway.

Once he’s satisfied, he also grabs his dress shoes and puts them on and he’s ready to go.

Just then, the doorbell rings. “Dan, can you get that?” He calls out. Another ring.

“Dan!”

Another.

Phil sighs. He’s probably still getting ready, straightening his hair to the point of it resembling uncooked spaghetti. So he leaves his room to go down a million stairs to open the door to -

“Wow.” He breathes.

It’s - Dan. And he looks _incredible._ First off, he hadn’t straightened his hair that much at all, which he never does. He’s wearing a red shirt, plaid, so it looks like someone took it from Phil’s closet and made it more high-end looking. He’s smiling at Phil and his hands are behind his back as he rocks back and forth on his heels.

“Wow yourself,” Dan replies. “Oh!” He lets his arms loose and in one hand he has a...a fucking flower. It’s a _rose._ He’s so _dumb_.

“You’re so _dumb_ ,” Phil tells him.

Dan shrugs. “Love does that to a man. Shall we?” He offers Phil an arm, that he loops his around and they leave the house.

There’s a cab waiting outside, probably an Uber Dan had called for beforehand and he opens the door for Phil and flourishes his hand and everything making him laugh. Phil can’t stop glancing at Dan, catching his eye and smiling at him. But he also can’t stop letting his eyes roam over Dan’s form, how well he wears just whatever, makes the outfit look good. He’s gorgeous. Before he can help himself, Phil lifts a hand and touches a rogue curl falling on Dan’s forehead. Twirls it in his index finger.

It’s when this happens: when Dan gets out of the cab, and helps Phil out, the same way he’d helped him in, when he’s standing under a streetlight with London’s bright lights in the background, faint behind Dan’s own light, that Phil realises all over again, maybe for the millionth time - he’s in love. He’s so drunk on the feeling of it, he can hardly believe the gorgeous man in front of him is _his_. And for a moment, he feels a pang of resentment that he can’t exactly show it off. It’s a choice they both made, and made _again_ just months ago and Phil knows that one day they won’t need to, or would reach the point where they wouldn’t even want to. It’s just that – well, he wants to hold Dan’s hand goddamnit.

He steps forward and lets his sleeve cover his hand so he can reach out and hold Dan’s hand under it. The younger looks at him surprised, but pleasantly so.

“Cool.” He breathes. Phil could laugh at the simplicity of that.

-

They walk and walk and walk. Talk very less though. It’s been enough time together that Dan and Phil don’t need to fill in silences with banter or sound when together. It’s never, ever awkward.

There’s not a lot of people around but the ones who are don’t pay any attention to them, and maybe that’s why Phil likes big cities. He can be whoever he wants (even with the occasional bump into a viewer), and be anonymous. He’d wanted to move to New York when he was younger, and he still wouldn’t mind but it’s crazy how quickly London became home.

(He steals glances at Dan as they walk alongside the Thames, him being the foreground of the city across the river behind him, and it’s - right. It absolutely makes sense that those two go together, that Dan and London and home are synonymous.)

They stop by a stall selling mulled wine in styrofoam cups and buy a cup each, and the drink warms Phil up inside all through his body along with the closeness of Dan to him. The drink doesn’t affect him much because it _was_ kind of hot but he still feels lightheaded and smiley. Eventually, he feels himself feel heavy and unconsciously leans on Dan for support.

“I’m not strong enough to carry you,” Dan says gently, touching Phil’s cheek with the back of his hand.

Phil hums but makes no effort to stand up straight. “‘M sleepy. Want cuddles.”

“Oh, it’s like one a.m.”

“Past my bedtime.”

Dan’s laugh makes clouds come out of his mouth. “ _Fine_ , but wait I need to take pictures.”

Phil knows that means they’re going to be there a while. Dan first takes a few pictures of his drink with the river in the background. “For the ‘gram,” he mutters. Then he switches to front camera and pulls Phil closer. “For me,” he whispers. And then he brings his face closer closer closer until their cheeks are smushed together and grins, making Phil roll his eyes and at that moment, clicks the picture.

“Cute,” Phil comments, as they inspect.

“You could’ve smiled,” Dan pouts.

“Fine, take another one,” Phil says.

Dan gives him a look, but positions the phone in front of them again and Phil lets himself grin, teeth and all when he suddenly sees on the screen Dan turning towards him, and he does too but before he can kiss Dan on his cheek, Dan ends up pressing his lips against the edge of Phil's lips. He clicks the picture anyway, and it shows both of them, eyes closed, Phil mid-laugh.

“I like it,” Dan whispers.

“Me too.”

As they drive home, it starts drizzling and even through Phil by principle doesn't enjoy rain, he can't help but be filled with a sense of contentment watching the water dripping down the window. And he's by no means the most romantic person alive, he doesn't spend his quiet time thinking profound thoughts that he can just whip out to fill a silence but he's sat in this cab, next to his soulmate, looking out at the sparkling streets of London and he can't _believe_ that he gets to live the life that he does, be loved the way he is. He's so lucky. So, so lucky.

(He suddenly feels like he needs to grab. To make sure he doesn't lose any of it. He takes his coat that's on his lap and places it in between him and Dan; slides his hand to Dan's and holds onto it. The other boy looks at him curiously and looks down at their covered hands, rolls his eyes but squeezes nevertheless.)


End file.
